Holy shit, what got into Zach Reno!? I’ve seen him wrestle hard and mean in the past, but seriously, he’s tearing through opponents like a wood chipper lately at BG East. Not that I’m complaining, but, damn! The boy is fucking intense! Like, what exactly did Tanner Vonn say to get that level of brutality to pour out of Zach like a flame thrower in Barefoot Babyfaces 2?
The dialogue in this match doesn’t exactly nail down that motivation, but reading between the lines, it sounds like Tanner called into question if Zach can really handle himself against Tanner’s size advantage. And, admittedly, it’s an impressive size advantage. BGE lists Tanner with a 3-inch advantage in height and 30 pounds in weight, which feels about right, though Tanner seems to tower even taller over Zach. I had the pleasure of getting to see Zach from my front row ringside seat at Wrestlefest Live in NYC last February, and honestly, it caught me a little by surprise just how compact he is. I’d guess 5’8 might even be a slight exaggeration. Right around the time he was tossed out of the ring and basically into my lap, I literally had the thought, “Damn, this hard bodied boy is just about my size!” And, I am not 5’8. But Zach was a fucking terrier in that live match against Sid Shaw, and no shit, he’s even more rabid as he’s dragging Tanner to the ring in Barefoot Babyfaces 2. Seriously, Zach is working some internal shit out when he’s hoisting Tanner’s HOT body up across his chest and pounding the hard bodied hunk’s abs into the ring post in the first minute and a half of this match. I’m not sure if this is in lieu of psychotherapy, or possibly if this is some brilliant therapist’s idea of a CBT homework assignment (the “other” CBT), but fuck, I’d swear Zach’s got glaring psychic wounds he’s working out at poor Tanner’s expense.
All that said, perhaps it comes as a surprise that Tanner is the one who secures the first submission in this match. Zach looks like he is absolutely eating the muscle hunk for lunch, when suddenly Tanner turns the tables. Now, it’s Tanner interrupting the crashing waves of Zach’s rage by locking the hot little terrier up in a full nelson. In this big bro’ bully move, Tanner spins him in that full nelson. The centrifugal force lifts Zach’s feet, and fuck, he looks even smaller than he did when they started. Those 30 pounds and 3(+) inches are crashing down on Zach like an avalanche. And fuck, all that steam pouring off of him while he squirms and screams in Tanner’s sexy-as-fuck bodyscissors is sensationally hot on so many levels. Cocky confidence and a terrier-like determination don’t always manage to equalize more obvious disadvantages a smaller wrestler like Zach has to contend with.
But then again, bigger doesn’t always translate to an advantage. Take Tanner’s gargantuan bulge, for example. Better yet, I’ll take his bulge. You just sit back and watch. Fuck, that oversized luggage is just too huge a target. Zach stops the big man in his tracks with a kick to those pendulous balls, and holy shit, the terrier is back with a vengeance. He slaps on super hot headscissors that slide down across Tanner’s throat into a choke. Tanner’s flopping around like a fish out of water, locked up tight and writhing, possibly regretting getting in some bully action on the hot little hunk. If he wasn’t regretting it before, Zach reaching down, pinching Tanner’s chest hair between his fingers, and ripping it out by the roots almost certainly does the trick. Like, handful after handful. Fuck, Zach is vicious as fuck!
A hot little punk who turns out to be the serious bully is a sweet plot twist! He absolutely demolishes Tanner. Like, everywhere. All over the ring. He ties the hard bodied hunk in the ropes. He fucks him up in the corners. I particularly enjoy seeing him drag Tanner up by the trunks, giving the sexy stud a hot schoolyard wedgie that shows off Tanner’s gorgeous ass. Zach is literally strangling Tanner in a way that starts making me worried I could get called to testify at the trial. I buy every single second of it when Tanner is getting those proud pecs of his chopped in the ropes and he’s begging like a bitch, “P-p-p-please!!!”
The psychological warfare is rich and spicy in a way that adds sweet, layered sexiness to this battle of babyfaces. Like, at one point Tanner’s on the mat, with Zach holding his legs up by the ankles and threatening to stomp the shit out of his balls. Tanner’s been whittled down to a raw nub at this point. He’s been terrorized hard and relentlessly for so long, all it takes is for Zach to rest the sole of his boot on Tanner’s huge bulge and threaten to crush his balls. Just the threat, like not even stomping on him, and Tanner is screaming what must be his fourth or fifth submission. If it wasn’t sold so convincingly, it might be gimmicky, but holy fuck, I buy the terror turning big Tanner into little Zach’s sniveling hunk bitch.
Tanner’s not done, though, and I LOVE a match with suspense. Tanner works on crushing Zach’s skull like a melon in crotch pillow headscissors. All I can think as I’m watching Zach writhe and scream is fuck, that’s one huge, cushy pillow for the back of Zach’s head. I think this probably reads like a squash to most fans, but it’s these little twists of fate, even these little turnings of the tide that keep me dialed in and loving the drama of professional wrestling with a homoerotic bent.
And speaking of my homoerotic bent, this match pushes my buttons delightfully. The humiliating disrespect is just delicious. Like, when Zach is yanking on Tanner’s trunks, crushing Tanner’s balls and wedging his hot, meaty ass. I mean, sure, it’s Tanner’s balls squeezing out of his trunks as Zach is jerking on them, but it’s the hairy chested pretty boy getting owned that dials this into what turns me on. It’s not just Tanner’s balls popping out, but it’s especially the fact he can do absolutely nothing about it.
I honestly don’t know that Tanner did to deserve this. But I hope he keeps doing it! And if this isn’t therapy homework assignment for Zach to work out his demons, please, oh, please, do NOT let Zach see a therapist now. He’s doing JUST FINE as he is!
Like Wrestlefest itself, Wrestlefest Live grew in leaps and bounds this year. I attended WF Live last year, and it was an awesome, fascinating, intense, and immensely entertaining event. Last year, the Live show had the feel of getting smuggled into a speakeasy during prohibition. We were escorted, one elevator-full of wrestling fans at a time, to the undisclosed location. Seating was limited in a sparse, Manhattan loft space on the upper floor of a high rise. It was mat wrestling in front of an intimately small but enthusiastic crowd. The matches were bigger than the setting, really, with some fantastic, high profile wrestlers from the underground scene, stars of both self-published and corporately produced homoerotic wrestling. Seated inches away from match after match of sizzling hot bodies grappling for dominance was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and when the box office opened online for the show this year, I eagerly snatched mine up hours after they went on sale, which turned out to be a good thing, since the show sold out in about 12 hours.
Wrestlefest Live this year was billed as more. More matches, a lot more wrestlers (accounting for tag teams, celebrity refs, and unannounced ring takeovers, turned out to be A LOT), but the one element that piqued my interest most was the promise of a full blown pro wrestling show in a ring. I was in suspense, wondering how they’d pull this off, knowing it was set in the same club where the kickoff party had occurred the night before (see my account of drooling over Dio Characi there). I tried to moderate my expectations, frankly. I was picturing the possibility of sort of a backyard wrestling feel, but in this case, in the backroom of Red Eye. Let me be clear, I admire the fuck out of backyard wrestling, with the young wrestling enthusiasts who improvise a pro wrestling setting on the cheap in order to live out (and record and share) their fantasies of being larger than life pro wrestlers like the ones they love watching on TV. Sometimes the “ring” is a trampoline or maybe just a few traffic cones and an unsecured rope marking the imaginary boundaries of a ring. Seriously, I’ve enjoyed watching some backyard wrestling from time to time on YouTube, when I find some hot young men going all in for the raw love of it. However, I wondered if Wrestlefest Live this year might similarly require the audience to imagine more than it literally delivered, sort of like backyard wrestling enthusiasts with the passion, if not the actual equipment and budget, of indy pro wrestling.
But, whoa. Like, WHOA! This was a legit show, the actual incarnation of unapologetic pro wrestling for a homoerotic wrestling audience that I’ve always fantasized about but never quite believed I’d get to witness. Sometime between the end of the kick-off party and the start of the show, an army of elves (who I’ve since learned were primarily made of up many of the wrestlers in the show) literally assembled a pro wrestling ring in the back room of the club. It took up about 80% of the floor space, and they packed in the 70 or 80 of us who purchased tickets into the remaining 20%. You know how eager I was for this, considering I gave up the opportunity to keep chatting up Ben Monaco, Beau Jordan, and Mickey Knoxx at the bar to elbow my way to near the front of the line as soon as the doors opened. I scored a ringside seat near the corner of the ring where the wrestlers made their entrances. I mean, everyone had an up close and incredible view, but fuck, I could literally reach out and touch the ring. When Mickey Knoxx made his ring entrance with Rocko Mortis for their tag team match, he peeled off his top and tossed it out of the ring at my feet (I haven’t asked Mickey, but I prefer to believe it was intentional). Moments later, when their opponents, Beau Jordan and pinch-hitter Seon Cruz took the ring, Beau ripped off his tear-away stripper pants and also tossed them down right in front of me (again, I tell myself it was an intentional bit of titillation especially for me). Like, fuck, I was right fucking there! When Sid Shaw and Zach Reno’s off-the-rails match spilled out of the ring, it was nearly in my lap. For a couple of seconds, Sid had a hold of my shoulder and was trying to climb over me and my buddy next to me because sensationally sexy lightweight Zach was about to thrash the living shit out of him. Fuck, I was right there, and we were ALL right there, and what played out in front of us was incredibly hot, hilarious, and gorgeous pro wrestling action.
Most of the wrestlers on the card have grown up before our eyes, turning their passions for wrestling into entertaining videos on WatchFighters. Quite a few have headlined for companies like BG East, Wrestler4Hire, and Weekend Wrestling. I suspect few of them have done anything quite like this before, pulling off a live match in front of a roaring crowd of guys turned on by wrestling. But honestly, you wouldn’t have known it. The entire show had polish about it. There was an earnestness and unblinking sell about it that was totally un-self-conscious. The slams where hard and loud. Bodies were literally catapulted off the ropes. The face plants into the turnbuckles shook the ring and hurt just to watch. The slaps and stomps popped with this spontaneous authenticity that left bright red hand prints and yellowing bruises behind. I’m mean, sure, I’m certain there were moments that I needed to suspend my disbelief, but as I look back on my memories of the event just over a week ago, I honestly don’t remember them. I just remember the stories playing out in front of us. And the hot bodies. I remember those really well.
There were competitive matches packed with impressive athleticism and wrestling technique. Babyface hero Dash Halley put those meaty pecs of his on the line against massive muscle bruiser Leon Cyrus in a best-of-5 battle that hit hard and kept us guessing to the sweaty end. My buddy Bobby Carter’s match against the institution, Lobo Gris, also started as one of those highly competitive and suspenseful battles, with pounding muscles and long, wrenching submission holds. But all of the matches showcased personalities and drama at least as much as they did stunning athleticism and technical wrestling. Both of the tag team matches were both dripping with melodrama, which is what tag team wrestling demands. When Kid Canuck and Ryan Reilly faced off against MPJ and Bruno the Beast, there was a shocking tag team partner betrayal culminating in a humiliated jobber pile of hot, sexy, demolished pretty boys. In most of the matches there was the teetering back and forth of the balance of power, with wrestlers owning the momentum and taking liberties and threatening to count their chickens before they hatched. Oh, and did I mention there was hot, hunky stripper wrestling? I feel like that deserves to be repeated.
The messiest and the most polished matches were back-to-back. My pick for messiest match was Gabe Steel taking on Drew Harper… and then Gabe taking on Dash Halley… and then Gabe taking on surprise reveal of Jonny Firestorm… and then Gabe taking on both Gabe and Drew. It was all high impact moves, with piledrivers for days. Honestly, there was so much going on I lost the thread of what the hell was exactly happening and who I was rooting for. Entertaining? Absolutely. But way, beautifully messy. The Weekend Wrestling feature of the evening was pretty much the opposite. Sadistic Sid Shaw took on Zach Reno, as I mentioned before, and it was smooth and polished to a glistening shine (just like Zach’s ass, which yes, we saw). Sid and Zach told the story of the underdog little (hot) guy refusing to be intimidated by the big, unhinged muscle brute. There was forced stripping, trunks pulled to show off two sets of hot glutes, and spanking. It was tightly told, with a couple of extensively experienced wrestlers to make every bump and spank feel spontaneous and part of a bigger story, including pulling in some ass whooping on Cole Cassidy (Weekend Wrestling Producer) which was oddly satisfying (not sure why I keyed off on seeing heartthrob hunk heel Cole get his ass kicked as much as I did).
And then there were just these unique moments that speak to the diversity of wrestlers and wrestling that populate this fabulously sexy community. Sir Dark’s match was just entirely off the hook and unlike anything else in the ring that night (in a super fun way). He was feral and bloodthirsty, out to fuck someone up so bad that he impulsively takes out the ref before a pop-up challenger can be identified from the audience. When KC Ryder steps in to be the beautiful blond babyface hero to stand against the forces of chaos uncorked by maniacal Sir Dark, the drama really got intense. Their match was ego-fueled and larger than life. It was sexy as hell and had me holding my breath in suspense and awe. Not sure if I’m conveying it, but it was just a whole different flavor to add to the buffet of Wrestlefest Live. The inaugural championship match between beefy babyface Ben Monaco and take-no-prisoners muscle heel Tarz Lando was (possibly) the the most thoroughly sweet treat for squash fans. The championship belt was decided in a super hot muscle massacre, dripping with cocky swagger and taunting trash talk and gorgeous, huge hairy pecs everywhere. The range throughout the evening was delightful, and the bench was deep.
It wasn’t perfect. There was a 20-minute delay at one point to try to troubleshoot the livestream that stopped working. There were blown moves, an occasional oversell, and even a frew more undersells. I saw Gabe Steel icing a swollen-shut eye after his match, and I’ve seen hints on social media that he may have more story to tell about things that didn’t go to plan. But as a gay fan turned on by wrestling, by sexy wrestlers and the drama and the battle for domination, it was magnificent. It was larger than life. From the rainbow ring to the ball claws and face sitting, it luxuriantly gay. It showed a ton of respect for the art and science and athleticism and beauty of professional wrestling. And it felt deeply respectful to a standing-room-only crowd of homoerotic wrestling fans. Those with credits for this sensational production included KC Ryder, Rocko Mortis, Cole Cassidy, and my cousin Scooter for what had to be a shit ton of upfront organizing and legwork, and there was another small army of guys holding the cameras and running the equipment. A quick shout out to the hot, handsome nerd-hunk ring announcer who should’ve thrown down the mic and ripped off his shirt (but didn’t). All of the celebrity refs (Chase Addams, Ethan Axel Andrews, and new-to-me muscle god Boy Radio) brought the sexy-in-stripes vibe and helped stir the pot of drama inside the ring at every turn. The Red Eye staff were uniformly delightfully hospitable and gorgeous (especially the bearded server with that hot-ass singlet serving drinks at ringside). I look forward to posting more detailed reviews once the matches go up on WatchFighters, but in the meantime, I’m combing through my hundreds of pics and videos I snapped, despite the announcement at the start of the show encouraging us to only take pics and videos “sparingly.” So not sorry!
Is it just my imagination, or does gorgeous hottie Zach Reno deliver more than his fair share of trunk pulls?
Zach is so determined to weasel out of doing his chores that he stuff’s Jayden Mayne’s handsome face between his hairy thighs, leans forward, and gives the choreboy’s trunks a quick tug.
Zach does what it takes to level the playing field when he’s double-teamed by gargantuan muscle gods Mark Muscle and Zach Altovito, including, but not limited to, yanking hard on Mark Muscle’s trunks to make his earlier low blows linger longer.
It’s not like Zach turns to the trunk pull only when the odds are long. He and fellow lightweight Ethan Andrews are more than enough to take on big, beautiful, pro loudmouth Garrett Thomas, but a completely gratuitous trunk pull makes Zach’s gut punches on the trussed up hunk that much more painful. And humiliating.
Trapped in Kid Karisma’s muscle bearhug in Gazebo Grapplers 17, Zach turns to a defensive trunk pull in a last ditch bid to survive the crushing embrace. The defensive trunk pull is a marvelous variation on the theme. It’s desperate, like clutching at straws, but instead it’s clutching at spandex.
The defensive trunk pull “works” only in so far as the wrestler on offense instinctively reacts to having his gear wedged up his ass crack and his cheeks exposed on camera. Zach’s pull implies that he’s an innovator, that he’s calculating more than just wrestling skill and strength, but also ego, vanity, and focus. Lesser men might be shocked and distracted to be on the receiving end of a defensive yank like this. Unfortunately for Zach, Kid Karisma is “less than” no one, particularly when it comes to showing off his multi-award winning ass.
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Not only is Kid K unfazed by Zach’s move to expose his perfectly muscled ass cheek, he happily demonstrates that one good yank deserves another. Ever the fan-pleaser, Kid Karisma makes sure you and I can make a fair comparison to determine who wears the wedgie best.
Personally, my fan support for Zach Reno is only accentuated by his readiness to grab hold of his opponents’ trunks. I seriously love Zach’s hot, compact body and his take-no-prisoners wrestling style. I’m a huge fan of his furry, muscled ass, as well. Like his ultimate fate in his match with Kid Karisma, he may not be ready to compete with the sheer beauty of Kid K’s breathtaking bare butt, but I’m loving Zach’s willingness to go there!
I had every intention of posting some more niche categories for you to chime in on as we look back on the best of homoerotic wrestling for 2016. But alas, time and tide await for no man. The clock has nearly run out on 2016, and probably not a second too soon. So instead of polling the readers, I’m just going to put forth a few of my own personal picks for the best in homoerotic wrestling in a few more categories almost certain not to show up in any official year end fan polls.
Best Back
Fuck, I love a big, broad, thickly muscled back. I suppose a lot of guys probably don’t think of the back as a particularly lust worthy. I, on the other hand, think a hot, sexy back is immense value added. It seems far too often neglected by the gym bunny crowd, making a truly gorgeous, crafted classic V and wide wing span that much more notable. Again, for my tastes, there are mechanics involved, like proportion, shape, and thickness, but that last, little, hard-to-articulate aesthetic comes down to whether a back makes me ache to slap down a massive load across the expanse of it. So, as with everything, it’s about what it inspires in me as much as any particular objective, measurable quality that we could all agree on. My top three favorite backs in 2016, in reverse order, are as follows:
Lon Dumont
2nd runner up is Lon Dumont. So much has been said about Lon’s phenomenal abs, and deservedly so. But damn, that back is a work of art! I would love to see 2017 be the year that opponents climb into the ring with Lon and acknowledge what a hot, rocking body this magnificent muscleman possesses, and fuck, that back should be on the list of things for an opponent with taste to admire.
Van Skyler
1st runner up for me is BG East’s muscleboy Van Skyler. He’s a dizzyingly sexy fantasyman from the front, sure, but fuck, that gorgeous back could be more perfect only with a stream of cum painted across it.
Scrappy
I don’t have access to better pics, but trust me, Thunder’s Arena’s Scrappy has a magnificent back. His perfect V points like an arrow that supremely fuckable ass. He’s phenomenal to watch wrestle. The attitude, the power, the beauty from every angle. But my heart rate spikes every time I see his best side. Scrappy has his admirers, clearly, but I have think that he’s one of the most underrated athletes in the homoerotic wrestling industry. He’s a handsome fucker with some sweet mat skills, but I’m waiting for him to just turn around, extend that lat spread and flex those glutes, and bring the right opponent to his knees.
Best Tag Team.
There were precious few tag team matches in homoerotic wrestling in 2016. A producer once told me that tag team matches are few and far between because it’s just too much of a pain in the ass coordinating 4 different schedules (plus the production crew). So they’re a rare treat that I, personally, enjoy immensely. So here are my top 3 favorite tag teams in 2016, picked out of some inexact formula of ring skills, beauty, teamwork and chemistry, with just a little of that extra added allure of making we want to join them in a 3 way (and I’m not strictly talking wrestling now).
Zack Johnathan (aka Z-Man) and Austin Cooper
2nd runner ups for me were the fascinating pairing of two sensational, iconic figures in homoerotic wrestling, Z-Man and Austin Cooper, teaming up for Rock Hard Wrestling in All-Star Brawl. I’m not convinced that they have a ton of chemistry when working together, but two hot, sexy stars this big and this popular make a sensationally sexy pairing.
Raving Savages Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood
1st runner ups, and thus first in line for me to climb into a petite, muscle packed, loin clothed sandwich with, are Wrestle4Hire’s Ravaging Savages, namely Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood. These bearded badasses were a thrilling surprise for me in their magnificent take down of behemoth muscle giant Mark Muscle. Despite pulling off some fabulously coordinated double teaming, I think they are just a little unequally yoked, as evidenced by Matt having to turn alpha and order Zach around a bit to finally finish off their superhuman opponent. But holy fuck, these micro beasts were a sensational turn on for me in 2016.
Team All-Americans – Rookie Charlie Evans and veteran Christian Taylor
In what has to be the hottest, most entertaining tag team match in homoerotic wrestling this year (this decade?), ginger newbie Charlie Evans joined forces with fantasy veteran Christian Taylor to bring down the house in Tag Team Torture 19. Their opponents, newbie Chase Addams and Trophy Boy Ty Alexander, could have totally taken this award, if their out of control vanities hadn’t set them on a path to self-destruction from the start. What Team Vanity lacked in teamwork and coordination, Team All-Americans excelled at. This was such a fabulous narrative of earnest babyfaces versus narcissistic heels, with the juicy melodrama of the upstanding All-Americans suffering heaping loads of underhanded brutality, and yet enduring, having each others backs, and through raw skill, will, and teamwork staying in the fray long enough for their egomaniacal opponents to make one too many mistakes. I would pay a premium for those dick selfies they snapped with Team Vanity’s phones. And absolutely, if there’s a tag team I’d most want to join for a rip and strip, baby oiled menage a trois, in 2016, it’s Team Vanity.
Best Gear
I’ve had some extensive conversations with Ty Alexander about the dangerous waters of expressing strong opinions about gear. I’m no Joan Rivers, and I hardly claim any particular expertise in fashion. But I definitely know when a particular gear choice does NOT do it for me. And, occasionally, I think to myself, that hunk was made to wear that! As with everything, there are mechanical factors that go into my estimation of gear, like fit, color, and complexion. But in this case, that hard to describe, major component of what I like has to do with me deciding, at least momentarily, that a wrestler actually may be even sexier in this particular gear than out of it (trust me, that’s a rare conclusion for me). Well, at least I think to myself that I’d like to see him in it before ripping it off of him. In any case, what I think may be the most sensational gear choices of 2016 are as follows.
Ty Alexander
2nd runner up is Trophy Boy Ty Alexander. To say that a pair of trunks look like they were made to be worn by a wrestler is, quite literally, the truth when it comes to fashion-obsessed Ty. He has an immense collection of custom made wrestling outfits that he showed off in 2016. Possibly my favorite were the opal trunks he wore in his grudge match against fleeting tag team partner Chase Addams in Tag Team Torture 19. Lush fit, beautiful contrast with Ty’s all-over tan, and generously providing reading material for when he plants that ass on Chase’s face. They tell a story all on their own, which, considering Ty’s panache for storytelling in the ring, adds compelling nuance and subtext to a match.
Jobe Zander
I let my attention wander away from Jobe Zander for a while, but suddenly, in 2016, I took another look and discovered a whole new man. I’m assuming there was some nefarious transaction with Satan involved, or perhaps a genie in a bottle, to transform Jobe into the ripped sex god he suddenly is today. However it happened, I was blown away by the super-low-rise, sky blue banana hammock he wore this summer in Can-Am’s Decrotchery 14. His hot, rock hard glutes look insanely sensational, and Jobe’s masterpiece is framed like the work of art it is. The seaming, the gorgeously tight outline of his monster cock… everything about these trunks scream Jobe. A fashion critique would likely note that the pouch pulls away from his inner thigh just a fraction as a result of a fraction too little fabric to manage to cover his famously gargantuan python. But who the fuck are we kidding. That tiny gap, the shadowed space stretched too tight at the side of his crotch, is exactly what makes this gear perfection.
My choice for Best Gear in 2016 is Rafael Valmor from BG East’s Fan Fantasy 4. Honestly, Rafael had an unfair advantage, considering Kieran Dunne made him try out about half a dozen pairs of trunks before acknowledging the obvious truth that these baby blue square cut swim trunks achieved absolute perfection. The combination of that baby blue against his bronzed, Brazilian body is so fucking lovely! But it’s the cut that boggles my mind. I swear it looks like these trunks were sewn together right on his body. From the back, they dip exactly to the top of his ass crack, squeezing each gorgeous ass cheek like loving friend. From the front, they suck to his muscled, upper thighs, and then leave exactly enough acreage to let his mouthwatering bulge stick out just right. I know, I know, I keep using the word “perfection” too often in this category, but I can think of no other description for Rafael’s gear here. Kieran agrees with me here. Mouthwatering, aesthetic, masterful engineering, absolute perfection.
Best Wrestling Character
I think of this last category like picking Miss Congeniality, only most of the time, the most compelling, sexiest wrestling personalities in homoerotic wrestling are decidedly uncongenial. As a fan, I talk about this aspect of wrestling often, the sell, not just of any particular move or hold, but of the wrestling story as a whole. There are plenty of homoerotic wrestling matches that seem to pop up out of nowhere, with the combatants’ motivation for stripping down to their barest essentials and beating the living fuck out of each other remaining mostly a mystery. But there are some sensationally entertaining hunks on the scene who absolutely emote. They set the table for us, sometimes with dialogue and explicit backstory, but often with just a smirk and a sneer. I love wrestlers who can convince me that they aren’t just waiting to clock out, but that they’re motivated and passionate about working up a sweat and settling some score. This is less about being a heel or a babyface or a jobber, but about conveying the virtual world in which hot hunks in the briefest of trunks defy gravity, obliterate the conventions of common decency, and pit nothing but their bodies and cunning against one another for a reason. That’s fucking sexy as hell for me. So here are my top 3 wrestling personalities who did all of that the best in 2016.
Aryx Quinn
I’ve missed seeing more of Aryx Quinn in homoerotic wrestling lately, but even showing up relatively rarely, he tears apart the competition in body and soul. As my 2nd runner up for best wrestling character, Aryx could easily drive fans wild with just that rocking body and those incredibly devastating wresting skills. And yet, every time he shows up, he brings that sexy as fuck, sneering, domineering, trash talking attitude that typically conveys a crystal clear motivation to rip an opponent apart in order to fuck them senseless in victory. I’d argue there’s no other wrestler in competition today who inhabits quite the wrestling character that he does with such supreme success.
Kid Karisma
My 2nd runner up for Best Wrestling Character is Kid Karisma. Kid K consistently conveys a transparent motivation for throwing down, built on several interlocking factors. He loves the way he looks, glistening with sweat and showing off his magnificent muscles, having beaten an opponent to submission and flexing over top of him. He clearly loves the way it feels, possessing another man, bending and breaking him, milking whimpers and screams out of him. Kid K sells a particularly sweet vintage of sadism without a hint of maleficence about it that’s incredibly novel and compelling. And, at least 2 times out of 3, he wrestles because it turns him on. So often, after ripping a lucky bastard apart piece by piece, you’ll catch Kid Karisma climbing on top, saddling up, and smacking down a lusty, passionate kiss. Both in his wrestling work and in conversation, he consistently comes across as a hearty partier, a prankster and a smart ass, who wrestles for the sheer pleasure of it.
Matt Thrasher
Best Wrestling Character in 2016 for my tastes was Matt Thrasher. Again, like Aryx and Kid Karisma, Matt inhabits a relatively unique persona in the business, I think. Particularly in his work for Muscle Domination Wrestling, Matt is the Daddy’s Home franchise. He’s gorgeous, of course, but he absolutely owns the salt ‘n’ pepper daddy beat in today’s industry. Youngsters of all shapes and sizes keep throwing themselves in his way, calling him old, calling him grandpa. And with patience born of experience, Matt chuckles, and then turns the ageist bullshit on its head by beating the living fuck out of every ankle biter he meets. He’s bulging and hairy and sweats like a Margarita in August, but its the way he carries that off in his seasoned, savory picking apart of young bucks that makes him such a phenomenal character. He’s never impulsive. He’s deliberate and decisive. And he persistently possesses the sexy, compelling character motivation of crushing the dreams of youth as he turns cocky kids into his sniveling bitches.
So those are my picks for some of the aspects of homoerotic wrestling that I, personally, key off of, but which don’t tend to find their way into end of year fan polls. Feel free to praise any wrestlers who you’d have picked for these (or any other) category in the comments below. And happy new year, people. Here’s to a hope and prayer to the homoerotic wrestling gods that we all survive 2017 with a few civil liberties left.
Kirk Donahue got off on the wrong foot with me. After debuting in exactly one match in 2014, near the end of that year, no less, somehow, he popped up on BG East’s ballot as a contender for Best Butt of the year. As you might have noticed, I am a devoted student of homoerotic wrestlers’ asses. I keep toying with the possibility of bringing back my Name That Ass game that entertained me so much a while back, but then I remember how almost no one ever actually wins that game because no one is as obsessed with cataloging the idiosyncratic beauty of wrestlers’ asses as I am. So when I say that Kirk Donahue’s nomination for Best Butt of 2014 was out of the blue, this is someone who knows of what he speaks.
Fuckable? Sure. But a top 5 ass!?
At the time the nominations were published, I had some harsh words for Kirk’s sweet cheeks. I pretty much impugned his moral character, speculating about who he had to fuck to weasel his skinny little ass onto one of the most hotly contested categories in the Besties. I mean, he was up against Kid Karisma, Cameron Matthews, Austin Cooper, and Gabriel Ross. Because Kirk took that fifth spot, we didn’t even have the option of voting for Brad Barnes, Connor Cross, Rio Garza, Ty Alexander, Chace La Chance or Cal Bennett. Out of nowhere, this Howdy Doody babyface with, admittedly, a very nice body and, undeniably, outstanding pro wrestling experience, shoves his lean, welterweight glutes in our faces with nothing but the wrong end of an obliterating debut squash and that shit-eating grin on his face to show for it.
I’ve got an axe to grind with Kirk Donahue
For that reason, I took an instant disliking to Kirk Donahue. Not like I never want see him in the ring, but the disliking that makes me really, really want to see him get the living shit beat out of him over and over again. When it comes to people I love to hate, there may be no one higher on that list than ridiculously cute, lean, earnest, dimple chinned, freckle faced Kirk. Back when he was first nominated I proposed that whoever wins the category that year should make it his mission to bend Kirk over his knee and pound his boy-next-door butt until Kirk confesses who he fucked to get on the nominations list. Cameron Matthews managed to wrest the title from 2-time winner Kid Karisma that year. I think both Kid K and Cameron should sort out these suspicions of poll rigging with a 3-way thrash all over Kirk’s tight little ass.
Zach Reno is all man
In the mean time, we get to see what hirsute beefcake Zach Reno can do with one of my favorite whipping boys in Babyface Brawl 4. First of all, Zach’s look instantly gets me hard. I’m still hoping to see Zach’s personality match the stunning glitz and glam of his sensational physique and magnificent fur. In the mean time, his gorgeous muscles and out of control curly split ends are still sufficient to raise my hopes (and other parts of me) that Kirk may be about to suffer hard.
Zach takes charge
Zach comes on strong to start this match off. Maybe too strong. When he brashly declares that he is the best wrestler ever, I start to worry that this magnificent, hairy chested dreamboat may be writing checks he can’t cash. His match record is pretty dicey thus far. He may want to review the tape of his crushing beatdown at the mercy of Kid Karisma’s muscles before he lays too bold a claim to invincibility. Too cocky? Maybe, but when he scoops up Kirk and slams his overachieving ass to the mat hard, I’m wanting Zach to pull this off so hard. “I told you these are arms of steel, bro,” Zach smirks, pumping out another sensational double bicep. Fuck, I’m wanting him to rip Kirk apart.
With arms that huge, Zach very well may be able to rip his head off
I love the drama in this match. The story establishes the long-evident fact that both Zach and Kirk have an impressive pro resume. It’s tit for tat repeated reversals of fortunes early going. Zach scoop slams Kirk. Kirk scoop slams Zach. Zach suplexes Kirk, goes to the well for a second dip, and Kirk thwarts him, reversing with a nasty suplex pounding Zach’s lower back hard to the mat. There’s a strong whiff of the possibility of Kirk using this match as a formal credential check, showing that he may look like a 19 year old upstart in way, way over his head, but he actually has top quality skill and grit packed into that super tight, baby smooth body. Right around then, my resentment is rising, because I’m still wanting to see him spanked hard. “Seems like anything you can do,” Kirk smirks, “I can do just as well.” Zach looks pissed. And dangerous. “That’s your opinion,” Zach retorts. “And your opinion sucks.”
Crush him, Zach!!!
Like the perfect contrast to the steady diet of squash matches I’ve been sucking down lately, this babyface brawl has me genuinely guessing almost all the way to the end. Just when I’m whipping mine out, feeling certain that Zach is going to slap this upstart son of a bitch to the ground, Kirk keeps fighting back. If I wasn’t hating on Kirk so bad, I’d have to admit, he’s fucking amazing, getting outmuscled repeatedly and using polished skill and sensational speed to zero out any advantage. But when he gloats about it, when he rubs it in and curls his adorable upper lip in that “I’m-a-big-boy” sneer, fuck, I scream at Zach to stop fucking around and make this punk cry like a fucking baby!
Make him weep, Zach!!!
This shit gets nasty in a hurry. Note to self: do not taunt Zach Reno while he’s still got gas in the tank. There are several moments when I think he very well may be successful in his obvious attempt to rip Kirk’s head off and, presumably, piss down his neck (okay, that last bit was all my idea, but fuck, Zach is angry). Despite my cheers, Kirk keeps clawing his way back into contention, and he dabbles on the nasty side of the tracks as well. When he’s riding a wave of fury, he drags one of Zach’s legs over the bottom rope and stomps on his sweaty inner thigh, working on doing serious damage to my fantasy man’s knee. When that doesn’t cripple him, Kirk immediately ties down a figure-4 leglock that makes Zach openly weep and beg, his torso twisting and flopping and flailing futilely. “Oh, Jesus, STOP!” Zach screams in total humiliation, tapping out. “How are your legs feeling?” Kirk taunts, giving Zach about 3 seconds to catch his breath before snapping back on yet another figure-4 crippler.
Zach puts the boy in his place
I’m very happy to report, however, that Zach finally holds onto the momentum and picks apart the cocky varsity boy man. There’s a sick, sick, sick knee to the face that’s sold so well that I’m half expecting to see some teeth fall out of Kirk’s mouth. When Kirk starts to try to pound his way free, Zach finally cuts that shit short with a rake to the eyes and a stomp to the throat. They’re both dripping with sweat, crazy sexy, gorgeous as fuck bearing down on one another with total, raw, never-say-die grit. But Kirk’s bluster and speed and pro skills don’t amount to much when his knees are wobbling out from underneath him.
Like a fucking baby!
Zach almost tickles himself by how devastating his bulldog is off the top turnbuckle on the battered babyface boy. He looks almost as excited as I feel to see Kirk flat out and motionless in the middle of the ring. “You’re really knocked out, bro!,” he laughs. He does push ups over top of him, pumping out a moot 10 count. Turning and flexing for his own pleasure, his mirror image glistening and pumped and smiling back at him so proudly, he’s fucking magnificent in victory. “Too bad I knocked you out before the show started,” he gloats, flashing his bulging, hairy pecs, pumping his thick, veiny, peaked biceps. “You’ll have to watch it on tape,” Zach laughs, driving home the most devastating justice of all, that all of Kirk’s big boy pro dreams and overestimation of his place in the pecking order just got schooled on camera.
Muscle and hair prevail
Ohhhh, fuck! I don’t know if Kirk has taken the opportunity to watch the magnificent muscle show that played out over top of his defeated carcass, but I’ve watched this scene repeatedly, and between Kirk getting what’s coming to him and Zach looking like the full grown fantasy man to beat, those last twenty seconds get me off yet again.
Zach Reno should do gay porn
Honestly, Kirk is incredibly impressive. Under different circumstances, I’d probably be a big, big booster of his. But I’m still pretty incredibly turned on by watching him force fed brutal domination and vicious humiliation in homoerotic wrestler purgatory. I’ll be willing to forgive him, the moment I see him do body shots by licking salt off of both Kid Karisma and Cameron Matthew’s world class, iconic ass cheeks. And in the mean time, Zach Reno’s stock just spiked for me. Vicious looks good on him. Frat boy grown up, with power and skill that even takes him by surprise is a juicy, sweet part that I hope we see Zach grow into more and more.
Mark Muscle and his pocket opponents, Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood
I’ve written recently about the special, pleasurable tension in contrasts. Age differences, contrasting gear, size, attitude. There’s narrative tension and immediate erotic value for me in watching homoerotic wrestling with high contrast. So little wonder I am blown away by Wrestler4Hire’s incredibly sexy two-on-one battle between Mark Muscle and the Ravaging Savages, namely Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood.
No one more aptly named that Mark Muscle
Mark is another wrestler I’ve been lusting after from a distance, and only now sampling in action. He’s a magnificent specimen of a muscleman. He’s listed at 6’4″ and 255 pounds, and even in a business in which big men’s stats are regularly exaggerated, no fuck, I believe every last inch and ounce of that. Tanned, smooth, dark blond, clean cut, and epic muscle on epic muscle hanging from his gigantic frame. When it comes to the objectification of the male body for gay viewers to key off on, Mark is the perfect object of muscle lusting male objectification. W4H seems not to title most of their matches, but if this had a title, Mark would be the title character.
Ravaging Savages Matt Blakewood (l) and Zach Reno (r) are half the size but just as sexy!
Pitting him against 2 opponents a fraction his size is sensational casting. Zach Reno I’ve seen and commented on before. At 5’7″ and 145 pounds, he’s sexy as fuck with his hairy pecs and caveman beard. But the shocking standout star of this complex match is totally new to me. Matt Blakewood is listed in the roster at 5’4″ and 130 pounds, and again, I buy that. There’s something of a mental patient vibe from his insanely shaggy beard and primal instincts. About halfway through this match, I catch myself no longer soaking in the sight of Mark’s divine muscle perfection, and instead licking my lips and staring fanatically at the smallest man in the mix, pale, lean, loincloth wearing Matt.
Too much man to handle?
This is more a concept match than a coherent narrative. I get the impression that no one, not the wrestlers nor the producer, quite knew where this thing would go, but they knew the visual of superhuman muscle beast Mark getting swarmed by pint sized pros like Matt and Zach would be total clickbait. And, clearly, true enough, at least as far as my punching on my clicker. But the actual back and forth of the match can’t quite decide whether Mark is invincible and unbreakable, or whether the sexiest angle here is the superhuman man of steel systematically picked apart and humiliated by a couple of guys about half his size.
“Look at those big arms!” Matt screams from way overhead.
I do admire that the Ravaging Savages know what they’ve got in the ring with them. They immediately admire Mark’s fantasy body. “Oh my God, he’s strong!” Matt mutters in terror when Mark effortlessly hoists him up across his chest and does overhead presses like it ain’t a fucking thing. Because at 130 pounds, clearly, it ain’t. “Look at those big arms!?” Matt cries out to his partner, watching awestruck nearby. They don’t try to sell disdain for their opponent’s physical perfection. They don’t ignore that his biceps are significantly bigger around than their thighs. They size him up with wonder and awe in their eyes, and then go to town to determine if 2 ring savvy pros who, combined, barely weigh more than their opponent, can use their four limbs, two heads, and hunger for taking down the biggest beast of their careers to make this eighth wonder of the world their bitch.
I’m not always sure who has whom, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Matt’s bulge.
Again, there’s some inconsistency in the narrative, because occasionally Mark is laughing off their best efforts and slapping them to the mat, and at other times, seemingly far less pointed attacks from the duo leave the mighty titan literally screaming in panicked agony. I think both angles are sensationally sexy, mind you. I’m turned on sensationally by the sheer panic in Matt and Zach’s voices when Mark muscles out of their best efforts and laughs in their faces, towering over them, superhuman,unstoppable, immortal. And frankly, I lose my shit multiple times when the dime and a nickel pack animals swarm all over him, nipping and ripping and tearing until the big man goes down to his knees screaming in frustrated terror. I just wish they’d paced this match with a bit more narrative tension, slowly turning the tables from one advantage to the other, rather than flipping the script multiple times with precious little rhyme or reason.
Bringing the big man to his knees
But when it comes to constructive critiques, that’s all I’ve got, because this match blows my mind as consistently as I blow my wad. When the Ravaging Savages are all over their prey, bringing him to his knees and wrapping him up in tandem dragon sleepers, the palate is classical and epic. Mark’s face is smothered underneath both Matt and Zach’s hairy armpits, his neck bent backward viciously as the boys dig their finger tips in deep to start ripping apart that mountain of muscle. Zach digs in deep to the beast’s baby smooth lower left pec, because even extending his fingers, Zach’s hands aren’t big enough to latch on to more of the expansive pectoral than that. Matt digs his claws in past the first knuckle to both trapezius muscles, pulling backward to rip the meat from the bone. It’s lush and melodramatic and sexy as fuck!
Don’t tug on Superman’s cape, bitches.
Like I said, I also love the moments when the bullets bounce right off of the superman. Suddenly grabbing hold of his mojo after being completely debilitated, Mark just laughs as the anklebiters each attempt a single leg take down simultaneously. Unmoved, the mountain of muscle just flexes, smiling broadly at the camera, displaying his magnificent dominance with sweet notes of cocky certainty. When he turns around and grabs each of his opponents by their throats, one in each massive hand, I lose it all over again watching the massive specimen of muscle pick them up off their feet, choking, sputtering, kicking futilely in mid-air. Wow, I buy it. I so, so buy it.
Who’s the big man now, huh, bitch!?
I think the sexiest exchange for me is the Ravaging Savages’ corner work on the leviathan. They work him over mercilessly, climbing the ropes in order for their flexible legs to stretch up high enough to plant their feet on Mark’s throats and choke him over the top turnbuckle. Matt has his hand on my button regularly, and no more directly than when he suddenly climbs Mark’s 6’4″ frame, straddles the muscle hunk’s throat (letting his loin clothed crotch linger in the handsome stud’s face for a while), and then rolls backward, hanging from those scissors, doing stomach crunches. Yep, Mark is the obviously intended object of our homoerotic objectification, but damn it all if I’m not desperate to lick Matt’s hot, taut body like a popsicle the more that the “little guy” completely dominates and humiliates the powerhouse.
Matt completely takes over the ring
Zach takes a back seat in the action as Matt really seems to savor calling the shots and being in the driver’s seat. Zach is still bouncing around like a caveman when Matt starts barking orders at him, telling his partner what holds to apply, what views to admire, what muscles to attack. No shit, the 5’4″ feral fox basically singlehandedly puts Mark Muscle away in the final 5 minutes or so, first totally owning the meat with sensationally sexy headscissors, and eventually mounting Mt. Everest and grinding his own lovely, bulging bicep mercilessly into the muscleman’s carotid artery.
Fuck, I want that body. Matt’s body!
Big Mark drops to his knees, starting to fade, and Matt stays with him, cinching the sleeper tighter and tighter. Zach is still bouncing around excitedly admiring his partner’s work, but the little man kicks both of the other stud’s in the ring with him to the fucking curb. “Flex now!” Matt growls dangerously, and no shit, the physique star obeys him. “How much does it hurt!?” Matt demands. “It… hurts!” Mark chokes, turning purple and going limp.
“Flex now!”
So maybe there is such a thing as too many cooks in the kitchen, because this match hits its stride and literally goes for the jugular only when Matt Blakewood has had enough of seeing flashes of superman, starts barking orders at his partner (mostly telling him to admire his work), and then very effectively uses his 5’4″ and 130 pound (gorgeous, mind you) body to crush and dominate Mark Muscle’s 6’4″ and 255 pound muscle body.
Mighty Mark Muscle cannot handle this!
Now, I’d love to dick slap hairy, hot-stuff Zach Reno in a schoolboy pin. I’d sell a kidney to climb Mt. Muscle and follow Matt’s lead doing stomach crunches while scissoring Mark’s massive neck. But if it’s fuck, marry or kill, I’ll put a ring on Matt Blakewood so this gorgeous, sexy as fuck little stick of dynamite pro wrestler can humiliate the big men day in and day out and dedicate them all to me.
Is that a landing strip up Matt Blakewood’s ass, or am I just happy to see him?
Cameron Matthews invites you, the consumer, to explain why incredibly hot pro Maverick and rising rookie Zach Reno are going at it in their new release match, Pro Wrestlers: Up Close. It implies an interesting confessional: this is a match in need of a narrative. The pace and intensity of both bearded beauties is fantastic. Zach is clearly in way, way over his head, but pro Maverick sells a solid plot, letting the hirsute rookie hang with the back and forth battle of punishing holds until Mav snarls, “I’ve had enough of this,” and opens up an industrial size can of whoop ass. He fucks Zach up relentlessly in the corner. He wraps his fingers up viciously in that manic tangle of long locks and drags the slack-jawed rookie all over the mat by his hair. Whatever Maverick’s motivation at the start of this match, he soon demonstrates dastardly delight in driving his drowning opponent to the brink of terror, threatening to break his back, snap him in half, drag out the torture a good 15 minutes past the point that the consummate pro could count the burned rookie out. I’m gasping at Maverick’s bounce off the rope moonsault, after which he crows about how brutal it must be for Zach to feel the pro’s steel clad six pack abs pounding down on him. By far the highlight for me is a flat-footed standing dropkick in which all of those bulging muscles on Maverick leap ridiculously high into the air, coil like a spring, and then explode, driving his boot heels squarely into Zach’s chin. Takes me back to being driven crazy watching Kevin von Erich defy gravity with that sort of grace and power.
It’s the trunks.
So I guess I do have my theory about why it is these two stunning fantasy men are “going at it” from the start. I think impeccably groomed and perfectly appointed Maverick is seriously pissed to share the ring with Zach Reno’s trunks. The rookie’s washed out lavender pro style trunks completely distract me, so I’m going to project (a lot) here and say they drive Maverick past the breaking point.
Maverick hangs Zach, and his trunks, from the turnbuckle like dirty laundry.
Since Zach’s appearance in BG East’s Gazebo Grappler’s 17, we’ve seen him with an increasingly unkempt mass of panhandler rats nest on his head, hairy torso, and a thickening, full beard disguising his handsome face. My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Kid Karisma chuckled and called Zach “Cave Man” when he first saw this primal look on the rook. Other than the fact that the beard is covering up way too much handsomeness (Zach, please take a cue from Maverick and clean that shit up!), I’m solidly sold on a feral, primal, diamond in the rough persona, particularly on a dazzling beauty like we know Zach to be. I think it’ll be a crime if he ever cuts his hair short again, because that mass of tangles makes opponents irresistibly drawn to drag his gorgeous ass all over the place by them, which is value added in my book. Hell, I’ll lose it for a smooth chested muscleman like Maverick 4 out of 5 times over a hairy torso, but I’m entirely sold on Zach’s tastefully clippered coat of fur. The ragged and raw edges, the arms length from a comb or scissors, the slightly uncivilized grittiness of Zach is golden as far as I’m concerned. But those trunks…
Those fucking trunks make Zach’s beautiful ass disappear! Fucking crime against humanity!
I’d like to consult with everyone’s favorite wrestling fashionista, Ty Alexander about this, but Ty appears to be giving me the cold shoulder for failing to include a photo of him in my recent post on the asses turning me on in new releases. For the record, I didn’t think there was a promo shot for Ring Release 2 that did Ty’s ass justice. I’d bend him across my knee any day, mind you. But without Ty’s expert eye, I’ll venture to argue that Zach’s trunks in Up Close fail on several points, the most egregious, I think, being that they’re a half size too big.
Maverick’s grooming, skin tone, matching trunks, knee pads and boots framing a perfectly proportioned classic Greek god physiqe.
Take a look at Maverick’s standard black and green pro trunks. They could easily be painted on. They aren’t so tight as to give the zero body fat hunk a Michelin Man look. Just right, suction packed to his gorgeous, muscled ass. Personally, I’d like to see them with about 3 inches lower rise. Ah hell, let’s be honest, I’d give a kidney to see them ripped off his fantastic physique entirely. But to my point, they fit. Perfectly. They accentuate everything right. They are seamlessly part of the wrestler Maverick, framing his gorgeous proportions and complementing every bulge to perfection.
Have I mentioned how much I hate those trunks?
Zach’s trunks, by comparison, bunch up, too much fabric left hanging. We’ve seen how phenomenal his ass looks in the right trunks, so just look how these panties make those gorgeous glutes of his flatten out and disappear. If he squeezed into tights at this point, he’d be a late 80’s commercial for the social faux pas of panty lines. Maverick, on the other hand, could slide his trunked body into tights and be as smooth as… well, a muscleman’s bottom.
Somebody needs to punish Zach until he promises never, ever to wear those trunks again.
The coloring is wrong for Zach as well, I’d say. Washed out, the blotchy lavender makes Zach’s pale skin contrasted with his dark hair all over seem anemic. By comparison, Maverick looks vibrant, 3-dimensional, in full technicolor as the shading and shadows of his mountainous muscles pop. I know for a fact Zach can pop. It’s those fucking trunks.
Pro Wrestlers: Up Close
Maverick delivers three (because he likes doing things in threes) awesomely intimate piledrivers to put the feral rookie down for good at the end of this match. The sight of both of their faces inches away from each other’s crotches, repeated again, and again, is what makes sense of the title of this match for me. What doesn’t make sense to me is those terrible, terrible trunks. Someone, please, rip those travesties off his body… pause…. and then give diamond in the rough Zach Reno a homoerotic wrestling fashion makeover. Please.
I’ve been obsessing lately on magnificently muscled asses. You know the kind I’m talking about. The sort that takes more than two, big, eager hands to grab hold of entirely. That type that contracts into rock hard slabs of squared off granite that could grab hold with a grip like a vice. Of course, the finest specimens belong on the backside of handsome, hunky, athletic wrestlers. Sampling the new homoerotic wrestling releases is feeding my obsession nicely.
BG East Best Butt winner for 2014, Cameron Matthews shows that awesome ass of his as he prepares for Barefoot Babyfaces 1.
Kid Karisma shows off why the title of BG East’s Best Butt is always in contention with his ass around. Perfect muscle sculpture as he poses in preparation for Gazebo Grapplers 17.
Muscleman Chace LaChance is sculpted beautifully from every angle, particularly from behind, as he prepares for his most explosive match yet, Ring Releases 2.
In Fan Fantasy 2, Jonny Firestorm gives this fan exactly what I crave: Chris Bruce’s magnificent, meaty, wedgied ass.
Eye of the Cyclone’s serial “Hard as Ice” includes three of my fondest things: a naked, muscle shower scene, beautiful, glistening glutes, and the fantasy man superhero SubZero.
Jake Jenkins hot, firm ass is perfectly suited to his acrobatic antics, and that backside may have never looked sweeter than pumped and primed for his Barefoot Babyface battle with Morgan Cruise.
And speaking of the Mastodon, his beautiful, beefy butt is a totally different sort, but no less obsession-worthy.
Supersized glutes (and bulges) feature prominently in Eye of the Cyclone’s “Who Do You Voodoo?” serial, with superhero partners Flex and HALO forced like puppets on a string to grope and grind one another.
Primally hot Zach Reno’s lovely ass is simply stunning as he prepares to get trounced by Kid Karisma in Gazebo Grapplers 17.
Hello, Sam Sellers, big, beefy, bulging rookie from BG East’s Mat Scraps 3. Nice ass, rook!
In “Idle Hands,” villainous minions of bodiless hands go for the gold in their assault on Eye of the Cyclone’s Archangel. That’s a heavenly, hotly muscled ass!
Zach Reno is back, hairier and hunkier than before.
Schwowza! Zach Reno makes what may be the most eye-catching sophomore appearance at BG East in his new release in Gazebo Grapplers 17. I haven’t checked the record, but I think it was Joe who popped his cork first and hardest upon seeing Zach debut in Tag Team Torture 17 last year. Like the match description says, the newbie bore more than a passing resemblance to Michelangelo’s David, with classic tight curls and a supple, powerful, aesthetically muscled body. At the start of his new release, he’s on his back doing stomach crunches as the scene opens. If you didn’t know it was the rookie who made some surprising appearances in the BGE Bestie nominations after just one match in 2014, you’d be forgiven for not recognizing him. He sports an insane rats nest of long, unruly hair on his head, paired beautifully with a full beard, and moderately thick body hair across his sexy torso and thick, powerful legs. If there were an award for most hair on a homoerotic wrestler, Zach would win.
The moment Kid Karisma gets his hands on Zach, that hot, hairy body is displayed to perfection.
And he’s tops not just in quantity of hair. His pre/post-modern do is decidedly sexy as hell. Even if it’s a little frustrating to have that fashion model face frequently covered up, there’s something primal, raw, and provocatively virile about the entire presentation. Kid Karisma agrees with me, I think. “What’s this, a cave man?” my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler chuckles when he strolls into the gazebo to find the hairy hunk working his abs.
Kid K tests out every joint and muscle on the fetching new wrestler.
Despite wearing a sexy, dark blue, sensationally snug pair of brief trunks, it appears that Zach is not expecting Kid K to come all up in his business, interrupting his crunches. He complains about being distracted by the strutting, alabaster vision of physical perfection circling like a bird of prey. He calls Kid K “bro,” demanding some alone time in the gazebo to sculpt his six pack.
Zach, meet Kid K’s superhuman thighs.
Kid Karisma looks famished. I mean, anyone who consistently shows up with bodyfat that freakishly low has got to be carb-deprived, but there’s something about Kid K’s intensity, his eagerness, that seems a notch higher to me than usual. I know the phenom has fantastic taste in body-beautiful opponents, so I’m strongly suspecting he’s as taken with the stunningly hirsute hunk as I am. He wants to get his hands on Zach. I want to get my hands on Zach. I’m delighted to see him get his hands all over Zach.
Homoerotic wrestling sculpture!
The delectable cave man is basically trying to defend himself from cruise missiles with nothing but a wooden club. If you’re half the Kid Karisma fan I am, you’ve seen the muscled wonder build this unstoppable momentum before, swarming, ripping, crushing his overwhelmed opponent from every angle. If you love dominating trash talk half as much as I do, you’ve appreciated precisely the way supremely cocky Kid K weaves a torrent of insults and taunts that seem to reach inside of Zach’s hot, hairy chest and crush his heart.
Kid K expertly drives the hot rookie to the edge of panic.
Kid Karisma works his intoxicating magic, no surprise. But the hunky, hairy, hardbodied beauty of a rookie sells his side of the bro-bashing beautifully. There’s something dizzying to me about Kid K’s polished marble fantasy physique, blue eyes and perfectly coiffed hair, ripping apart the primal, grunting dark and dashing cave man. My socialized gut makes me associate liberal coats of body hair, fuck-it-all tangles of head hair, and an “I-eat-hipsters” bristling beard with aggression, masculinity, invulnerability. Kid K is, on face value, the more vulnerable figure, like a vision of a delicate angel, crafted entirely for pleasure. So Kid K heeling the fuck out of Zach and making the bro scream in a panic grabs me by the balls just right.
Total control. Zach goes completely limp and entirely vulnerable in Kid K’s front-face sleeper.
Zach turns into little more than Kid K’s plaything pretty quickly. Dazed and confused, the fratboy cave man is humiliated over and over again. At one point, Kid K literally shoves his own head underneath Zach’s arm, forcing the rook to at least look like he knows an offensive maneuver. Zach rouses to try to make Kid K regret it. Yeah, Kid K has never heard the word “regret.” The most intoxicating moment by far for me is near the end, both hunks wedgied lusciously, Zach slipped snug and intimately in a front-face sleeper. He’s been beaten for days, but still, fireworks go off in my head when I watch the cave man struggle, then slowly sag. His arms flail but then droop to his sides. His back drops, his legs growing weak, as his conqueror sucks down every ounce of conscious strength and fight left in him. Then he hangs there in Kid K’s embrace, completely out, still on his feet because Kid K is holding him up, relishing the feel of the moment.
Thanks for the memories, Zach. Can’t wait to see that hot, hairy ass make many more!
I still say being nominated for Top Babyface for 2014 was just too soon for Zach. He just had far too little screen time to compete with magnificent contenders like Kip, Jake, and my pick, Denny Cartier. But January 1 is such an arbitrary temporal boundary. The momentum between Tag Team Torture 17 and Zach’s destruction in Gazebo 17 is deeply compelling. I don’t know what’s in store for him, but I hope it’s prolific and involves getting his mop of curls yanked mercilessly and his beautifully hairy ass spanked relentlessly. And I desperately hope he calls more top shelf heels like Cage Thunder, Guido Genatto and, please-oh-please-oh-please Kid Vicious “bro.” I’d pay premium prices to watch that unfold.
There’s been some confusion about the BG East Best of 2014 poll. For the record, it is still open, and will remain so until midnight tomorrow night, February 8. You can find the poll through the homepage by clicking on the “All 2014 Releases” button and then clicking the poll banner at the top of the page, or simply click here to go to the poll directly.
Let’s take a look at a few more categories. What defines a babyface is fiercely debated among some wrestling fans. When I’m thinking of babyfaces (which is often), I’m picturing a wrestler who is eye-catchingly beautiful, earnest, optimistic, trusting in the rules of wrestling and human decency to make the wrestling ring an honest to god contest of strength and technical skill. A babyface is stoked to be cheered and admired. He expresses contempt for vile evil doers who take short cuts and disregard rules and good sportsmanship. As I look at the field of BG East Bestie nominees for Top Babyface of 2014, that’s the standard I’m holding up to each of this sizzling hot leading men. Let’s take a look at who’s in the running.
Kip Sorell certainly has “dazzlingly beautiful” down to perfection. He’s also earnest and eager. Kip jobs so blindingly fast, it’s hard to tell exactly what his take is on things like “rules,” because he’s typically flat on his back and reeling within seconds of the start of a match. He does wear white to perfection, though, which seems very true-to-babyface.
Zach Reno (left) surprises with yet another appearance in the 2014’s poll, despite only appearing in one match (and a tag team bout, at that). He clearly made a huge impression, and he’s already making fans swoon in 2015 with his hairier, hunkier rendition of the same Michelangelo’s David form he showed in 2014. But 2015 is not 2014. Was he best babyface in 2014?
Jake Jenkins has owned top babyface two years running, and he’s back to slap down the opposition yet again. It’s hard to argue that JJ fits the babyface typology to perfection, particularly when he slides that hot bod inside American flag trunks, as he did in 2014. Heroic, earnest, banking on strength, skill, speed, and flexibility to overcome dirty tricks. Hard to beat!
Is it too soon for 2014 newbie Richie Douglas to make a full fledged run for Top Babyface? I’m torn, because the rockin’, ripped boy next door is achingly beautiful, straight up sincere, facing down long odds like a hot jock who’s never heard of a short cut. I think his stock is rapidly on the rise, but has he owned Top Babyface already?
3-time homoerotic wrestler of the month Denny Cartier makes me weak in the knees with his dimpled chin, bulging pecs, and full frontal offense. Has he ever, ever even bent a rule or been anything less than aggressively sportsmanlike? He’s not superhuman, but he’s somehow intensely, potently, powerfully, vulnerably human, heroic, and gorgeous.
For me, this category comes down to the tried and true, solidly developed babyface characters of Jake Jenkins and Denny Cartier. I think JJ’s momentum and unblinkingly fanatic fan base makes him the top contender for the popular vote, but my personal vote is finally leaning Denny’s way. JJ has an edge to him in some matches, a cocky, smirking, I’ll-go-as-low-down-as-you-dare-me-to attitude, whereas Denny just clenches that Clark Kent jaw and dishes out due respect almost every time. And in 2014 he had the distinction of taking that upright intensity to introduce Lon Dumont to mat wrestling, including finally getting bulldozed by the notorious pro heel. The dark horse who could defy the odds this year I think may be Kip Sorrel. I’m always a little surprised not to hear more buzz about the living Ken doll, so I’m wondering if there’s a silent majority out there just waiting to make Kip upend JJ.
Now let’s turn our attention to the category of Best Squash. This is a category that instantly turns off some fans who just don’t enjoy one-sided crushings. I, however, am not that type of fan. I fucking love gasping, dangerous maulings when both the pitcher and catcher sell it with enthusiasm. I think we have some notable contenders and, perhaps, some surprising absences in this year’s slate.
In Demolition 18, Guido Genatto so overhwlemed newbie Kirk Donahue in his doomed debut that the babyface punk literally tried to crawl on his belly from the ring to escape his brutalizer. Amazing sell. Total squash. Crotch tingling one-sided brutality.
Jonny Firestorm is tried and true in dishing out squashes, having won last year for grinding jobber Drake Marcos into a pulp (I so know that feeling). This time, he turned his tornado offense on Nicholas Rush in Demolition 17. Classic heel-in-charge Jonny nearly beheading and breaking into pieces long, lean Nicholas. Squash!
Another Demolition 18 match featured Flash LaCash taking pro muscle mayhem to the task of trashing the fuck out of Jake Jenkins. Flash made the most of JJ’s superhuman flexibility and endurance, twisting and tying the unlucky acrobat into some gravity defying holds I’ve never seen before. JJ screams. Flash laughs. Incredibly hot squash.
In Jobberpaloozer 13, Austin Cooper literally broke newbie Leo Tomasi’s nose and laughed at the blood trickling out the lean stud’s nostrils. “Dr. Cooper” (as he dubbed himself) decided the medically advisable treatment was to hang the hot rook upside down in a tree of woe and keep on fucking him up. I love Dr. Cooper the heel, and Leo brought out one of the most magnificent crushings from him.
Both Guido Genatto and Jake Jenkins are nominated in other products in this same category, which I think may very well split the votes of their most loyal fans. Guido’s mauling of JJ in Demolition 17 was spine tingling to watch, and Guido treated us frequently with glimpses of JJ’s bare ass with trunk pulls. Sensational squash, but was it best?
Two matches from Demo 17, two from Demo 18, and JJ and Guido showing up in multiple contenders? Very complex field to try to handicap. Personally, I’m going with the one and only non-Demo entry, because Dr. Cooper and Leo Tomasi owned me hardest and truly surprised me when I noticed how hot I found it to see Leo bleed. Dr. Cooper is an incredible heel, perhaps made more so by the distance he’s traveled since his heel turn. Honestly, I’m not sure at all how to predict where the majority may lean in this one with all of the overlaps, so I’m going out on a limb and saying I think the majority (and the hardcore Coop fans) will swing the vote the same way I’m going, with Jobberpaloozer 13. I’m also demonstrating the size of my balls by saying I think Jonny v Nicholas is a serious underdog this year. I have to also note that all of these Best Squash contenders are ring matches from just 3 products. What happened to Passion & Punishment 1, with Mason Brooks spanking Drake Marcos like the naughty boy his is, which may have been the most satisfying squash of the year in my book?
Now for the newest category in the BG East Besties, the vote for “Best Submissions in One Match.” I struggled with the variable construct of this category. It’s not “most submissions,” though I suppose some could vote with that interpretation. It’s not the best “submission” in a match, because the nominees aren’t specific submissions, but the matches themselves. It’s also hard to miss the fact that the nominees for Best Squash line up very closely with nominees for “Best Submissions in One Match,” making me think the nominating committee also lacked a little clarity in the scope and range of this debut category.
Jonny is the master of innovative submissions, so I totally buy the entry of Demolition 17, Jonny v Nicholas Rush here. Jonny, indeed, brought his inspiring understanding and mastery of human anatomy to ripping Nicholas apart and tearing one panicked submission after another out of him. This crotch-ripping, knee-wrenching, kneeling toe hold (what the fuck do you call this!?) is stunningly sexy wrestling sculpture. Hot, hot, hot submission.
Submissions fly like a flock of sparrows when Cameron Matthews and Lorenzo Jake Lowe bring their deep arsenals of submission holds to Submissions 9. Two of the most accomplished submission wrestlers on the books, Cam and LJL stretch themselves and each other beyond belief. The arch, the bulge, the sweat, the way Cam is ripping apart at least 6 joints simultaneously in this hold is, again, a work of art.
Demolition 18’s match featuring Guido Genatto & Kirk Donahue makes another appearance, and there’s no denying Guido “welcomes” Kirk to BG East with a barrage of some of the most terrifying ring submissions ever. I particularly love this choking backbreaker, with Guido leaning his face up close to Kirk’s cheek to hear the newbie gasp out panicked submissions over and over.
Most submissions in one match may, arguably, have to be awarded to Wet & Wild 7, but that’s because 6 wrestlers were involved in every variety and pairing. Trey Dixon and Mason Brooks are specifically called out from this product for the nomination in this category, and I totally agree that these two hot bodied hunks put each other through some of the sexiest submission holds on record. This particular shot of Mason nearly knocked out cold in face-to-crotch headscissors, with Mason going limp right about the time Trey looks like he’s mid-orgasm, is one of the hottest submissions I can remember.
Guido Genatto played Jake Jenkins’ hot, flexible body like a pipe organ in Demolition 17. JJ’s determination to go up against massively muscled indy pro veterans is hot (and more evidence of why he’s a 2-time Top Babyface winner), and Guido is a maestro of ring submissions. This leg lock, with JJ’s boots trapped against his groin, as backdrop for a neck-breaking chinlock is simply fantastic.
So I’m choosing to dole out my vote for this category based on particular submissions (to be specific, the one’s I’ve highlighted above). If it were “most innovative submissions,” I’d easily vote for Jonny & Nicholas. If it were most terrifying submissions, I’d probably take Guido and Kirk. I’m picking the best submission as in the one that I found sexiest, the one that recurred in my early morning wet dreams, the one that I replayed in real life and in my fantasies most, which was, for me, Trey Dixon’s poolside face-to-crotch orgasmic headscissors. Since the category itself seems spongy to me, predicting a winner is tough, but I’m thinking Cameron Matthews and LJL’s fans will swing this their way. I think the longest shot is Guido and Kirk, both because Guido fans will be split and because Kirk is such a new commodity.
So the Bard-approved ballot as it stands now looks like this:
Sidelineland 